


The First Light of Midgar

by Nautilus_T_Party



Series: The First Light of Midgar [1]
Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Before Crisis, Gen, Midgar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5231768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nautilus_T_Party/pseuds/Nautilus_T_Party
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Cid Highwind on his way to Pilot School for ShinRa Inc. Big city, small town boy; what could possibly go wrong?<br/>There will be angst, humour, love, and swearing. Hope you enjoy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

Here stood the boy, barely a man, fresh-faced and green as a leaf; plunged headlong into the forest sea of living industry; Midgar; the great Goliath of the Eastern lands, the only place to be.

Yet no tree or plant grew here; no birds sang their morning song; for Midgar was a place of people. People and their pride, vice, and blind ambition; where the poor were the poorest and the rich stood on their backs; it was a place to get ahead or get left behind.

Course the boy didn't know any of this; he stood there rooted to the spot, lost in his thoughts, while the great press of humanity threatened to confound his very senses. No time for gawking, the boy told himself

“ _Got a train to catch_ ”

Hustled into the dimly lit carriage, he took in the spartan interiors. No such thing as creature comforts here, just raw utility.  
People were crammed from bow to stern like little tinned sardines, sweating in the heat of their collective breath, alone, yet drawn together by a singular purpose; work.

It was in this cramped space, under the dull red fluorescent hue that he felt the familiar ache for the open spaces of home, longing to hear the drawl of the Western patois; his mind drifted to that distant place, eyes focused on something far beyond his reach; the people he’d left behind.


	2. Reminiscence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hearing a familiar accent on the train to Shinra HQ, Cid remembers his upbringing in a backwater town on the Western Continent.

“Cid was a country boy; brought up just shy a backwater town with no name; north of a Mako mining town call Nibelheim. ‘Course back in those days before Shinra was preaching the miracles of Mako energy, everyone was mining Mithril, and this little town was no exception. Everyone and their brother worked the mines; it was the lifeblood of the town; and as the saying goes if you’re old enough to lift a shovel, you’re old enough to dig.

Now life for young 'Cidney’ (as his mother was won’t to call him) was not what you would call exciting; he was a restless boy, he worked hard, played hard and had an enthusiasm that knew no bounds. While most people spent their time breaking stone, Cid spent his time breaking other things; much to his Pop’s annoyance.

Poll Highwind; the boys father was a man of few words; a mineral prospector for the mining arm of the Shinra Electrical Company,  
brought up in a time when you had to work hard to put food on your family’s table.

 _You don’t work, you don’t eat_ _”_   He used to say; and his son, well, he always had his head in the clouds, dreaming his days away, while the people around him had no such notions.

Cid’s Pop saw no value in indulging the boys foolish flights of fancy; hoping beyond hope that one day, he’d grow some sense into that thick skull of his; unfortunately his son had inherited the legendary Highwind stubbornness.  
  
His mother on the other hand, was a different story altogether.

Rora, the boy’s mother, doted far too much on young Cidney, this was to be expected though, as the boy’s father; Poll, spent a lot of time away on Shinra business; the boy was her only companion after all. Little Cid always had her ear, spinning her all manner of fanciful yarn. He’d tell her about all the adventures he’d had that day; the “friends” he made; the monsters he’d slain; the boy had imagination in spades. Unfortunately imagination was not a quality the other boys seemed to share.

As it happened Cid didn’t have any real friends; the other children tolerated him yes, on account of his Pop; who was a prominent figure in the community, but they had no time for his silly notions and aspirations, the thought of doing something other than hard labor was frankly unheard of, and little hard to digest. As he got older; that alternative world view of his would prove to be a bone of contention with the other boys, but that’s a story for another day.


End file.
